


Moonstruck and Naked

by damienkarras



Category: School of Rock - Lloyd Webber/Slater/Fellowes
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Sad, how do you spell ned’s Last name, werewolf!dewey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damienkarras/pseuds/damienkarras
Summary: Dewey is a werewolf.





	Moonstruck and Naked

**Author's Note:**

> hey discord. you wanted fluff? funny.

When Dewey Finn started teaching long-term at Horace Green, the kids noticed something quite off with him. He’d bring a water bottle and refill it many times during the day, among other things, which prompted the kids to ask themselves, “How much water can this man drink?”  
Despite his tendencies to scratch at his neck and never shave, the kids still loved him. After all, he was the one that introduced them to rock, and they adored him for that.  
But Summer wasn’t content with drawing the line at that. Summer Hathaway was stubborn, interested, and above all, a little worried for him. With that, she piled research onto her ever growing list of work and called it a day.

Dewey, on the other hand, was totally oblivious to what Summer was doing or thinking. He didn’t have anything to hide, anyways. At least in the daytime.  
Still, he thought he was doing a pretty good job. He’d have to invest in a larger water bottle, though, but then he’d be tip-top. No questions and absolutely no evidence.  
Before class, at exactly six ‘o nine, he marked his calendar. Today was a waxing crescent moon, and he circled the next three days, tapping his pen against the desk. He’d already taken enough sick days, and Rosalie might be too much of a nice person. His last sick day she kissed him on the forehead and told him if he took another one she’d have to take care of him, and that was the last thing he wanted. He could say he slept in, but then she’d be mad at him, and that was the second last thing he wanted.  
Putting his face in his hands, he sighed loudly. His only choice was to take whatever life threw at him, and that wasn’t one of his skills.  
“Mr. Finn?”  
Dewey jolted up, closing the calendar instinctively. “Summer! Jesus Ch-- school doesn’t start until, like, thirty minutes!”   
“I know. I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay with you.” Summer opened a notebook that was tucked in her arms.  
“Shoot, kid.”  
Summer coughed. “Mr. Finn, I’m conducting a research paper on cryptids, and my first monster is the werewolf.”  
Dewey’s words caught in his throat. “What?”  
“Werewolves, Mr. Finn. Have you heard of them?”  
“Of course, b--”  
“Great! Can you tell me what you think of them?”  
Dewey squinted his eyes- he was pretty sure you didn’t put opinions on research papers, but he’d never written one, so he couldn’t judge.  
“They’re, uh, spooky. That’s all. Now get out of my classroom.”  
Summer whispered under her breath. “Spooky… do you believe in them?”  
“Yes?” He wasn’t sure what to say. For all he knew, Summer was a human lie detector and could see right through him. But there was no such thing, right?  
“Summer, you can ask me all your little, weird, creepy questions after class. Now shoo.”  
She tucked her notebook back and walked out of the classroom, a little smile hidden by her hand.

Dewey shut his bedroom door.  
Patty and Ned were upstairs, watching a movie- Dewey didn’t stay up long enough to ask what it was about. He wrung his hands together, pacing the lengths of the basement. Ned knew about his condition, and him and Patty would usually plan a date on the full moon so Dewey could transform alone. But apparently Ned had forgotten.  
“Fuck,” he muttered. He could feel the buzz, his muscles twitching. He clamped a hand over his mouth. He could feel his teeth moving, forming into sharp canines.  
“Not now,” he whispered, sitting on his bed. “Anytime but now, please.”  
His body didn’t comply, and he stifled a groan as his back arched out, bones cracking. He grabbed his bedpost, watching his fingers grow out into nasty claws. It hurt, and it burned, but Dewey couldn’t do anything about it.   
“Please,” he choked out, jerking his head upwards. He felt the fur growing in, little spikes shooting through his skin. Each one was a needle, and the pain was too much to bear. He threw himself back, breathing through his teeth. His eyes grew, an aching pain in his skull, his whole body twitching.   
Where the fuck was Ned? Ned was always there for him when Patty was out and this time he had to be there, wondering what day it is and realizing his friend is turning into a beast right downstairs. He tried not to scream, because he couldn’t. If Patty knew, everyone knew. If everyone knew, he’d have to find somewhere else to go or he’d die.  
He shoved his face into the pillows, turning his head side to side, the pain in the front of his face too great to bear. He rose up, snarling, clawing at his face.   
The basement window was cracked open, and when Dewey felt the breeze, he rushed towards it, not able to stop himself. He crawled through the window, breaking it in the process.   
Glass crashed to the floor, scratching Dewey and making one hell of a sound.  
Upstairs, Ned jumped up.  
“Ned? What was that?” Patty asked, scooting backwards on the leather couch that took up most of their tiny apartment.   
He grabbed a bat, one of Dewey’s possessions, and stuck it out near the door. Right then, he realized it was a full moon.  
“Dewey,” he whispered.  
“Dewey?”  
He flung open the door and ran downstairs, two steps at a time, and threw his hands into his hair in disbelief.  
“Did someone break in?” Patty asked, cowering behind Ned. Her voice feigned interest.  
“No.”   
He stood there, frozen, caught between his friend and his girlfriend. He could go out and try to help him, but Patty would be suspicious.  
He chose what he thought was best.  
“Let’s go upstairs.”

Summer hurried up the steps of Horace Green, eager to talk to Dewey. She raced down the halls, only walking when a teacher or student took notice.   
“Mr. Finn?” She whispered, opening the door.  
“Hey, kiddo.”  
Her jaw dropped.  
Instead of regular Dewey Finn, there sat a bruised and defeated man, head in his hands, dirty and scruffy.  
“Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine, Summer.” He looked up. “Just got caught off guard while driving.”  
She thought for a minute, her mouth hanging open.  
“Mr. Finn, you don’t drive.”  
Dewey grinned nervously, standing up. “I was with Rosa- Ms. Mullins. I was in her car. She drove.”   
She squinted her eyes. “But i was in the parking lot yesterday. Ms. Mullins didn’t drive with you.”  
“Summer, just drop it, okay?” He put his hands on the desk, looking over the scratches. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”  
“Mr. Finn, I’m sorry.”  
“No. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He sat back down, turning towards Summer. “I’m sorry.”  
There was tension in the air, the tension of knowing things that should not be known. Dewey was looking at his feet, heartbeat in his ears, barely able to swallow.   
“You’re a werewolf,” Summer says, like it was a regular thing to say.   
He doesn’t reply.  
“That’s why you’re always out on full moons. Almost all full moons. You drink a lot of water and rashes appear on your skin, both obvious symptoms of a werewolf. If I’m wrong, correct me.”  
“You’re not wrong,” Dewey muttered, shaking his head. “No, you’re not wrong.”  
She takes a deep breath.  
“Have you killed anyone before—“  
“Get out, Summer.”  
This time she complies, stepping out of the room and closing the door softly behind her. Her heart is beating fast, her hand gripping so tight on the doorknob her knuckles turn white.  
The bell rings.   
Instead of turning back, Summer goes the opposite way, ignoring Zack and Katie and whoever tried to tell her that class was starting. She threw open the door to the music room, where they practiced. They moved from the actual classroom to a much bigger, safer environment.  
There was a phone in there. A blue telephone on the desk.  
Summer grabbed it as fast as she could and telephoned her mother. She didn’t pick up.  
“Come on,” she whispered, tapping the desk.  
A woman’s sweet voice, like that of honey, seeped out of the phone.  
“Hi, honey!”  
“Mom. Are you doing anything right now?”  
“Oh, we are! I was just about to call Ms. Mullins!”  
Summer grabbed the edge of the desk. “What?”  
“Yes, a very nice young lady named Patty called us today, telling us her boyfriend’s friend was a werewolf-“  
“Mom, where are you going?”  
“To your school!”  
Before she could say anything else, Summer threw down the phone, her whole body shaking. This couldn’t be happening. Her own parents couldn’t do this.  
She ran down the hall, not stopping for students or teachers. As she approached Dewey’s classroom, she heard the speakers come to life.  
“All students and teachers.”  
Summer threw open the door and simply yelled, “RUN!”   
The kids stood up, pushing past each other to reach the door, and they’re yelling, and she runs towards Dewey.  
“You have to go, Mr. Finn, they’re coming, my parents—“  
“Summer, listen, I can’t—“  
“RUN!” She yells, pushing him towards the door.  
At that moment there’s an ear splitting crash and Summer screams, because she knows it’s her parents coming for him.  
“Mr. Finn, please!” She sobs, and when he doesn’t move, she runs in front of him.  
“Summer!” Her dad exclaims. They’re in the doorway, and she can see Zack’s dad behind him.  
“No. No. You’re not. You won’t. Won’t get to him!”  
“Summer, baby, please.” He stepped forward and Dewey jolted back. “Don’t make this job harder for your dad.”  
“Get back.”  
“Mr. Mooneyham?”  
Summer can hear Tomika yell from the hallways. Everything is in slow motion, even as she drops to the floor, her heartbeat in her ears, the shrill and shattering sound of the gunshot.  
Everyone goes silent, which allows her to hear Ms. Mullins scream Dewey’s name, her voice dripping with rage and horror. They rush in, surrounding his body, blood on their hands as they shake him, trying to wake him up.  
Summer knows there’s no point. He’s already dead, and he’s getting colder by the minute.   
“You killed him.”  
This sets off another chorus of screams, a mix of sobbing and hoarse voices. Tomika is crying, holding onto Dewey’s hand. Zack is in the corner, too afraid to register that his father had murdered someone. Freddie and Katie and almost all the rest of the students are screaming, but their voices do not rise louder than Summer’s, hers being the roughest, coming right from her heart.  
“Please,” she whispers, then screams. “HELP US!”  
The world melts away. Her eyes are focused on one thing only.  
Dewey Finn’s eyes are wide open, showing just how scared he was in those last moments.  
Summer bends down, her whole body collapsing, and she whispers something only the Hathaways can hear.  
“Those weren’t silver bullets.”


End file.
